In life I’m always actively doing one or all of three things: working, growing hair, and trying not eat Macaroni and Cheese. Joe has somehow JUST discovered Macaroni and Cheese, so now at meal time he screams all of our truth, specifically MY truth, the truth I’ve been harboring and protecting since my first ever bite, MORE MAC. MORE MAC. He then alternates between shoving his face full of it, or looking at it like I just served him old socks to eat. On the nights when he doesn’t want it, I’m faced with a choice: throw away perfectly good macaroni and cheese, or sit there fully eating congealed pods of cold easy mac with my bare hands like savage, like they’re truffles, like they’re brownies, like it’s gold. GUESS WHAT I CHOOSE (CHEESE.)
